Vows
by Sweet Avidya Jones
Summary: Kataangsty conversations with just a smidge of sexiness


Aang and Toph stood before the statue of Guru Laghima, looking critically up at the stone face gazing down on them. Toph had her hands on the base, running them lightly back and forth so the vibrations bounced back at her. She cocked her head as if she were listening. Aang's arms were folded across his chest.

"What about that girl we met at Kuei's last party? What was her name? Ming Lhi?" he offered.

Toph shook her head, "Too abstract."

The statue was in need of repair and the two of them had spent the better part of an hour examining it, trying to determine whether it was a job they could undertake themselves. Eventually conceding that neither of them felt comfortable with the gentle touch required for a restoration, they'd begun discussing who might be up to the job. Or more accurately, Aang had been naming any earthbending artist he could think of and Toph cataloged their shortcomings.

"We need someone else to consult on this," he sighed, "Next time we're in Ba Sing Se I'll go talk to someone at the museum."

"Katara's bringing lunch," Toph said, as Katara rounded the corner bearing a tray. Having grown used to being announced this way years ago, Katara only smiled.

"What did you two decide?" she asked.

Aang turned away from the statue as Katara knelt and began setting out bowls. "We're going to find someone else to do it," he said, "It's such delicate work, an actual earthbending artist would be the best choice."

They all sat to eat under Laghima's watchful eye, spooning out rice and steamed vegetables. Toph gestured to the statue with her chopsticks.

"Hey, Twinkletoes, who is this guy, anyway?"

Aang glanced up, "Guru Laghima. There's an old legend about him, that he unlocked the secret of weightlessness." He pointed to the ceiling, "That's why his statue is up here on the top floor of the Temple. He's supposed to have let go of his earthly attachments completely and never touched the ground again for the last forty years of his life."

Katara's eyes widened, "Is that true?"

Aang shrugged, "If it is, he was the only airbender who ever managed it."

"I think it's kind of creepy," Toph said, pressing a clump of rice into a ball with her fingers. "Never touching the ground, even when he slept? And I don't like all of this business with the Air Nomads talking about 'earthly attachments' like they're a bad thing."

Aang grinned, "Well, obviously none of them had ever met you." Toph gave a derisive snort and he went on, "A lot of the language we used was symbolic. Don't take it personally."

Toph frowned and was quiet for a moment, leaning with her chin on her fist. At last she said, "It's weird to imagine you living here, just doing all of this spiritual stuff and training every day." She sat up, "I just realized, if you were never frozen, like if the war had never happened, would you have been celibate your whole life?"

Aang nearly choked on the mouthful of food he'd just begun chewing.

"Toph!" Katara admonished.

"I'm just curious!"

"Um," Aang began and coughed, having managed to swallow his food and recover his composure, "I would only be speculating. But that was sort of the idea."

"Wait, what? Really?" Katara asked.

He shrugged, "Yeah. I mean, I'm sure people slip, no one's perfect. But abstinence is definitely part of the picture when you're raised to be a monk."

"Nice job corrupting our virtuous friend here with your feminine wiles, Katara," Toph said, waving her chopsticks in Aang's general direction. Katara shifted uncomfortably and she went on, "Guru Whatshisface would be deeply disappointed."

Aang was picking through the vegetables in his bowl and glanced across at Katara. She was avoiding his eyes, blushing. He returned his attention to his bowl, his own face reddening a bit.

"I'm pretty sure Guru Laghima was incapable of disappointment," Aang put in, "considering his enlightenment and all."

Toph spoke past a mouthful of food, "Then he shouldn't care that his statue is falling apart, either."

xXXx

When they began working toward making the Southern Air Temple habitable again, the first thing Aang and Katara did was stake a claim on an isolated room in a far corner. The fact that they were sharing a bed went unspoken, as much to maintain Sokka's sanity as anything else. After Aang proposed, they dropped this shoddy pretense entirely. Katara had been ready to defend her actions whatever the case. Privately, she thought Aang deserved whatever slivers of happiness they could eke out during their stays at the temple. Their early visits here together created some understandably depressing associations with the place. Now that they had some privacy when they visited, they were making a determined effort to reverse them.

Most of their clothing was discarded in scattered heaps on the bed and the floor surrounding it. Katara straddled Aang's lap, arms draped over his shoulders, knees against his hips. She spread her fingers on the back of his head as he bent to draw her nipple into his mouth, hands on the small of her back, holding her close. Katara tilted her head back with a soft moan, eyes closed. He kissed his way up to her shoulder, the tip of his tongue grazing the curve of her neck. When she opened her eyes, she was looking up at the ceiling, at the weathered stone above them. She ran her fingers up the back of his neck, a resentful sigh escaping her.

"Is it okay that we're doing this?" she asked, her voice low.

"Is this about the conversation we had earlier with Toph?" Aang murmured. His lips brushed her skin and she tilted her head slightly in an unconscious invitation. He nipped gently at the spot just under her jaw that always sent shivers down her spine. With a frustrated little groan, she laid her hands on his shoulders and pulled away from him. She looked down into his eyes.

"I'm serious," she said, though the laughter in her voice took the truth out of this statement.

His hands slid to her waist and he rolled his hips a little, "I am also very serious," he replied with a grin. She rolled her eyes and pinched his arm.

"Really!" she scolded, and he chuckled. "I just…I mean, I know we've talked about all of this before but I guess I never thought about it much when we…" she trailed off, embarrassed.

Aang lay back against the pillows with a resigned sigh, knowing she would not be deterred at this point. He let his hands rest on her thighs. "When we started having sex," he supplied.

"Right," she mumbled. He smiled and she was relieved to see it. "I mean, I know you have certain rules you live by and it never occurred to me that maybe they were stricter than you made them out to be when we were kids."

"Ah."

She ran her hand through her hair and leaned back on her hands, "In fact, I distinctly remember you saying something about 'sexual misconduct' once and I remember it because it was so awkward to hear you say that phrase."

"Yeah, I remember, too," Aang said, "Mostly I remember the smug expression on Sokka's face."

Katara smiled but it was hesitant, "So, yeah. What about that?"

"You really want to talk about my vows right now?" Aang asked skeptically.

She sat up and shifted her hips side to side a little. "It does seem particularly relevant at the moment," she drawled. His lips curled into a lopsided smile, almost shy.

"I don't think this is sexual misconduct. We're both consenting adults, we're not hurting anyone." His eyes drifted to the betrothal necklace she wore, "Besides, we'll be married next month, anyway."

She grinned, "Say that part again," she leaned into him to kiss him lightly, "I love that part."

He smiled against her lips, "We're getting married," he reminded her, "next month." Katara sat back on his thighs again, her hands over his. He took a deep breath and added, "If you want to stop having sex until after we're married - "

"No, no, it's not that," she said, "I'm just wondering if you regret it. Being with me."

Aang frowned and twined his fingers in hers. "Katara, no. Of course I don't." When she didn't look convinced he went on, "Being with you and living a spiritually fulfilling life are not mutually exclusive things."

"But if we'd met back then, back when you were still living here - " she began.

"You weren't even alive then." He squeezed her hands, "We're together now. That's all that matters."

"I know." She gave a sad smile, "Sometimes I forget how old you really are." He sighed and released one of her hands to drag his own across his scalp.

"I _feel_ old sometimes," he muttered. "Sometimes I wonder how long I would have lasted. If you hadn't found me." His eyes were pointed at her midsection but she could tell he wasn't really looking at her, his gaze unfocused and distant. "Sometimes I wonder…" he didn't finish this thought and Katara's brow furrowed.

"What?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.

He blinked and met her eyes again, forcing a smile, "Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"Tell me," she urged in a whisper.

He licked his lips and swallowed, ran his thumbs back and forth on her bare thighs. Her skin was warm and soft.

"Sometimes I wonder how much time I have left," he said. He cleared his throat, "I mean, it _was_ a hundred years, you know?" Her breathing was shallow and tense, as if she was worried about what he would say next. Her gaze dropped away from his. Realization hit him and filled him with disquiet, "You've thought about this," he said.

Katara nodded, hugging herself, "Yeah," she admitted. She placed her palms flat on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, his heartbeat. "I have." She bit her lip and took a deep breath. When she finally looked into his eyes again and spoke it was in a tone he recognized, one she usually used when speaking to patients while doing healing work.

"Aang, you're only seventeen. You're strong, you're healthy. There's nothing to indicate - if there was anything to be concerned about I would have noticed it by now."

"But…?" he pressed.

She hesitated, "Can we…I don't really want to talk about this," she said. Her fingers curled slightly, nails scraping his skin. His brows knit together and he frowned.

"What is it?" he asked.

She pinched her lips together and slid off of his lap, picking through the clothes on the bed for her tunic, her back to him. She swept her hair forward, giving it a nervous twist. Aang sat up, running his fingertips down her arm.

"I'm sorry, Katara," he kissed her bare back, between her shoulders. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

She shrugged, as if she could somehow minimize the seriousness of the topic with a gesture. After a moment of silence passed between them, Katara turned toward the head of the bed, legs folded. Aang lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, looking up at her.

"I'm a healer, I should be able to talk about these things." She frowned, knowing she was close to crying and wanting desperately not to let it show on her face, "It's harder when it's you. It scares me more," she whispered.

He considered this and then asked, "Have I ever told you about when I first learned to fly a glider?" She gave a crooked smile and shook her head. He nodded and went on, "I was seven. Seven was an auspicious age for my people, kind of ceremonial, but the thing kids were most excited about was getting their own glider. I was already proficient enough at airbending by then that I was training with older kids. One day some of them were jumping off of a balcony and banking around the back of the temple to sneak into the kitchen." He smiled wistfully, "I already knew how to fly a little but I'd never jumped from somewhere so high before. And when I did it I felt this - " he took a deep breath as he recalled it, " - this rush of terror, right before the current caught me."

Katara looked into his eyes. It didn't feel all that long ago that Aang had still been the tiny, cute version of himself she was picturing. She often wondered about this time in his life, when he was still untouched by war and so much loss. It was hard to think about what he must have been like before his tattoos, before he found out he was the Avatar. He felt vulnerable when she imagined him this way. She lay down next to him, curling into him, her arm across his waist. She kissed his chest and he ran his knuckles down her upper arm with a sigh.

"The next day they did it again and I went, too. I stood on the railing with them, looking out, and I remembered that fear, I knew it was coming. I was paralyzed for a second. And then I remembered Gyatso telling me once, when I first started my training, 'the moment you realize your fear, you have already begun to step through it'. So I jumped." He inclined his head to look at her, "I think what you're feeling is kind of like that."

She frowned, "How do you mean?"

Aang hesitated, knowing what needed to be said and not wanting to say it. Finally he murmured, "You already know what it's like to watch me die."

He could feel her breath catch and her arm tightened around him. She didn't reply and he didn't have to see her face to know she was crying. He closed his eyes for a moment, guilt heavy in his chest, knowing this was upsetting her but unable to stop himself from going on.

"It is _so_ _hard_ for most people to conceptualize death, you know? It seems so big and impossible. But you've seen it. You know it just happens."

"Aang," she said, her voice wobbling. "Please."

"I need you to listen to me," he urged in a whisper, "I know you don't like thinking about this. I know you don't like remembering that day. But that is such a rare insight. Even if you can only think about it for a second, every once in a while, you should. That's the only way you'll be able to understand it."

She sat up, her back to him again. "I don't want to understand it," she mumbled. She sniffled, bending the tears off of her face.

He swallowed and took a deep breath to steady his voice, "I need you to," he begged, hoping she could hear his remorse. He sat up and kissed her shoulder. His voice low, he asked, "You know those dreams you have sometimes right before you fall asleep? The ones where you're falling?"

She gave a weak, unsteady laugh, "You are _literally_ the only person I know who doesn't have those dreams."

He closed his eyes, letting his forehead rest against her, "Sometimes I dream about you falling. I can see you, in the distance, and I know I can't get to you in time. I know there's nothing I can do." The image came to him against the darkness behind his eyelids. He his heart stuttered and opened his eyes, sitting up. He touched her back with his fingertips, as if assuring himself she was still there in front of him.

"The thought of leaving you alone is what scares _me_. I have all this power but I'm afraid that the last thing I'm going to do in this lifetime is hurt you." His throat tightened and he bowed his head.

Katara turned and slid onto his lap again as he gathered her up in his arms. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. Exhausted suddenly, he couldn't stop the tears from leaking out onto her skin. There was silence between them for a moment.

"Let's leave for the South Pole tomorrow morning," she murmured.

He turned his head to rest his cheek against her shoulder, "We have to be in Ba Sing Se next week."

"I know. It won't take long. We can stay overnight."

"What for?" he asked.

"So my dad can marry us," she explained.

Aang held her close, breathing in her scent, tracing the sturdiness of her spine with his fingertips. Katara was the warm, living heart that anchored him to the world. She kept him grounded and he wondered if he could ever find adequate words to express how grateful he was for it. He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Okay."

Katara pulled back and touched his face, tilting his chin up to look into his eyes. She ran her thumbs along his cheeks, gently sweeping his tears away, giving a little smile despite it all. He sighed.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she replied, and he knew she understood.


End file.
